The rasping at the door was slow. It didn’t follow any rhythm. Sometimes a knock would drag; the scraping sound made all the hairs on my body stand up straight. But that was nothing compared to the moaning. The slow, hollow cry of a creature in longing. It was terrifying, and it wasn’t going away. The combined sounds of inhuman hands banging on my door and the mournful call of whatever beast stood on the other side of it roused me sometime during the night. The sky was still a twinkling canopy of black, but the beauty of the night sky was the last thing on my mind.

The thing at the door stayed there, restless, for a period of time that I couldn’t keep track of. At first I thought that waiting for it to go away was the best course of action; after lying there for a while, hopelessly trying to ignore the moaning, I realized that it wasn’t going to work that way. I’d have to deal with this. I was about to open the door when I realized how stupid I was being. This wasn’t a creeper, but who knew what other kinds of beasts roamed these isles at night? Maybe it was just annoying and not dangerous. But then again, maybe it was above creepers on the food chain. And I was terrified to think of what kind of monster would hunt those terrible things.

I headed over to my workbench, and fashioned a wooden sword. It wasn’t much, but it would have been dangerous to go alone.

Peering out the small peephole in the door, I could see a fairly humanoid shape on the other side. It was a noticeably lethargic creature, its movements lazy and uncoordinated. I was beginning to feel like this wasn’t as bad as I’d feared. I still couldn’t make out exactly what it was though, as the overhang above the door cast a shadow that the starlight couldn’t hope to penetrate.

I unhinged the door, and started to pull it open. This lit a fire in the creature; it ceased its moaning and clawing, and lunged at me with a ferocious groan. The amnesia hadn’t affected my reflexes though, and I instinctively jabbed my flimsy sword at the creature. It connected with the thing’s throat, not enough to piece its flesh, but the blow knocked it back a bit. The stun was very temporary and it attacked again, its claws ready to tear into me. I evaded again, sidestepping to my left, and smashed the creature’s spine with the hilt of my sword as it toppled past me. The wooden sword certainly wasn’t sharp enough to sever any part of this creature: I’d have to find another way to score a killing blow.

The creature was a shade of a man. It was even clothed like one, though it’s garments were torn and soiled to the point where they could barely be thought of as clothing. It had the same physical shape as an average human, but the devil’s in the details. And these details were more than slight. The thing’s skin was a strange shade of green, maybe even the same as the creeper’s, but it was too hard to say for sure in the dark. It seemed similar to human skin, but at an advanced stage of decay. It almost looked as though it would easily peel off. Its eyes were devoid of life, looking at me and right through me at the same time. I suppose this is what you’d call a “zombie.”

While the beast could make sudden lunges in an attempt to clobber me, it was still quite slow otherwise, and I was easily able to take control of the situation once I’d focused. Basically useless as a cutting tool, I used my sword as a means to keep the zombie’s filthy hands away from me. I gave it a smack to the side of the head. The blow left only a small bruised patch, proving that while the skin looked dead and fragile, it was actually quite hardy. I circled behind it again and kicked it in the lower back, causing it to fall on its face. The thing didn’t even try to break it fall, and smashed to the ground with a thud. Recognizing my opportunity, I leapt up and brought my foot down on the back of the zombie’s neck, which simultaneously created a very satisfying crack and a sickly noise that I can only describe as a “splorch.” Movement ceased, and the zombie slowly faded into the dirt.

The zombie carried with it an awful smell, very similar to that of the rotten meat I’d found the other day. Of course, that’s probably where the meat had come from the first place. The only parts of this problem left to solve were why the possible zombie had been on fire, and where they were coming from.

Stepping out of the dwelling into some slightly fresher air, things got worse again when an arrow flew no less than a few millimeters in front of my face. I quickly hopped back into the doorway and peered around to see my attacker. This time, it was clear right away what was trying to murder me, but I was no less shocked to see that it was a skeleton that had shot an arrow at me. At this point, I was ready to start trying to convince myself that this was all a dream. Almost as if something wanted me to know that I was not dreaming, I felt a blot of pain shoot up from my leg. In my panic, I hadn’t quite completely hidden behind the wall, and my exposed leg was now home to a rather dull arrowhead. The pain was intense, but I was a little relieved that the arrow had only dug into my leg just enough that it wasn’t going to come out without a bit of coaxing. You’ve just gotta try to look on the bright side sometimes.

A skeleton, of all things. Really?

This monster wasn’t playing around. I could hear it advancing on me and I decided to take the initiative, bolting out from my hiding spot, hearing the thwip of the skeleton trying to peg me. I turned and zig-zagged at it. The shot that pierced my leg must have been a lucky one, as the skeleton had more than enough trouble leading his shots to give me an opening. I swung my sword upwards and the pile of bones collapsed in front of me. I took a breath and heard two thuds, one heavier than the other. Must have knocked the jawbone clean off, too.

A couple small bones remained while the rest flaked away in the wind, and I was happy to collect a few stray arrows as well. Too bad its bow and quiver had vanished along with the rest of it.

I limped back to my hut. Though it was only lasted a minute, the extra pressure of the battle with the skeleton had intensified the pain in my shin. It certainly got worse before it got better, but I was glad to be free of the extra bit of wood and stone. I wound a small length of cloth around the wound, and sunk into a corner. Hopefully the worst of the night was over.

More eerie sounds flowed in through my skylight before I my eyelids settled, but they remained distant, and I figured it would be best not to investigate further.

In the morning, I took what seeds I had left down to the edge of the water and tilled a little land to plant them in. My bread supply was almost out, and I didn’t feel like heading out to Home Base every time I needed to stock up.

I spent the majority of the afternoon basking in the sun, staying off of my injured leg as much as I could. The wound was uncomfortably deep but wasn’t very wide, so the bleeding had stopped overnight; moving around on it too much would inevitably open it up again, so I decided it would be my day off. Survival could wait until tomorrow, right? I dreamed of places I might find, islands that offered more than lonely trees and night terrors. I also got to thinking about a way to move faster between islands. Surely I’d be much better off if I constructed a raft or a boat. Swimming between islands with a bum leg was going to be worse than ever.

Having absolutely nothing to do but roll around in the grass makes one restless, and I eventually decided that I’d spend the evening of my day off building a boat. My wood supply had run out though, so it looked like I’d have to head back to Home Base anyway. The swim to Tree Island was as painful as I’d anticipated, and I didn’t envy myself the return trip.

The saplings on Home Base were out to get me that day, as only one had grown into a rather small tree. It alone would barely provide enough wood for a boat. Recalling how I managed to insta-grow the wheat though, I mashed up the bones I’d won in the wee hours and scattered the bone meal around the sapling. Almost instantaneously, I was looking at a tree of massive proportions, certainly the largest I’d seen on the islands. Feeling that it would be more than enough for the time being, I knocked down the two trees and collected the wood and new saplings that sprung from them. Leaving the planted saplings to grow on their own time, I began the long journey back to Hope.

I planted all my new saplings on a level plane of the island next to my hut. If I didn’t find something better once I was able to travel by boat, at least I’d have a healthy supply of wood waiting at home for me. I laid out among the little trees, exhausted and in great pain from my trip back and forth across the islands. Once the sun began to set, I knew it was time to get back to work. It was only a matter of hours before monster time.

I managed to get the boat finished up by the time night fell. It was a cold night, too, so I made a short trip outside to collect some stone that I formed into a sort of poor-man’s furnace. I figured that while I had no proper fire-starting materials, I could rub a couple sticks together to spark up a source of heat. I failed, and huddled back into my corner for the night.

I could already hear the cries of the beasts outside.